


Children Can Be A Gift (literally)

by AngeNoir



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Kid Fic, M/M, Parent-Child Relationship, Tony Stark Has Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-29
Updated: 2014-06-29
Packaged: 2018-02-06 16:45:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1865157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngeNoir/pseuds/AngeNoir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve wakes up to a third body in his shared bed with Tony. Frigga, the goddess of prophecy and midwifery, apparently gave them a gift - one that Tony doesn't know how to receive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Children Can Be A Gift (literally)

**Author's Note:**

> My (belated) gift for [cloudsandpassingevents](http://cloudsandpassingevents.tumblr.com/) on tumblr for the SteveTonyFest gift exchange!

Steve felt something bounce on their bed and with a groan he mumbled, “Tony, we had a really late night last night.”

“Go back to sleep,” Tony grumbled.

With a sigh, Steve opened his eyes to chastise Tony – because how the hell could he sleep if Tony was bouncing on the bed, really? – and stared up into violently blue eyes.

Tony didn’t have blue eyes.

With a yelp, Steve lashed out – but before he could actually hit or shove the person, he realized how tiny the body was and checked himself midway, causing himself to flip forward and roll off the bed.

“Steve?” Tony asked, and then let out a squeak.

The child – because it was a child – giggled and dragged the sheet over its head before burrowing into the bed. Tony jumped up out of the bed and grabbed a pillow to cover himself. “Steve, there’s a child in the bed. Why is there a child in the bed? What happened? What did you do?!”

“Calm down,” Steve grunted, scowling as he got up off the floor and rubbed the back of his neck (he, at least, had boxers on even with last night’s activities). “What time is it?”

Tony glanced aside to where their clock sat. “Eight in the morning.”

“Right. Let’s… go down to the common room and see if we can find a – a parent there. Grab the kid.”

Tony stared at Steve a moment and flapped the pillow against his groin pointedly. “ _You_ grab the kid.”

Grumbling, Steve dug blearily through the dresser a moment until he found sweats, and then unearthed the kid and stared a while longer.

Because those looked like his own eyes, but that was Tony’s Mediterranean coloring and hair sticking up messily.

 _You’re imagining things, bud,_ Steve told himself, shaking his head, and he scooped up the child and nearly dropped the wriggling bundle. Who knew a child could be so… wiggly?

He looked over to see Tony valiantly trying not to bust out laughing. “You okay there, Steve? Little tyke too much for you?” Tony said, voice oddly strained as he fought not to laugh.

“Go get some underwear on,” Steve growled. They had had a long training session, followed up by visit from Loki who put all of the Avengers in this dream-state where their dreams tried to kill them, and in the end needed to be brought out of their unconscious states by Frigga, who had watched Tony fret over Steve and smiled and blessed their union or something – Steve wasn’t sure, he’d been out of it – but whatever she said, Tony had nearly jumped Steve before they even made it to their room and they’d made love _three_ separate times throughout the night. He was tired, grumpy, and a strange child was in his bedroom. He was allowed to be peeved.

The toddler stopped squirming long enough to look Steve fearlessly in the eye and then squish Steve’s cheeks together with the child’s palms. “Papa,” the child cooed, then continued on, “I’m hungry, Papa!”

Steve nearly fell down.

“I didn’t know you were out of ice long enough to have a three year old child on this earth,” Tony said, one eyebrow arched.

“I didn’t. I don’t. I – just get dressed!” Steve snapped, and practically fled the room, hoping to figure out where this child had come from.

Down in the shared kitchen and living room, Natasha and Bruce were playing a very intense game of chess, Thor was in the kitchen making huge stacks of pancakes, and Clint was nowhere to be seen. When Steve walked in the doorway, Natasha remarked absently, “We didn’t even expect you or Tony to show your face before noon – Thor said his mother basically blessed your union with fruit which would have kept you two busy with – is that a _child_?”

Steve held the child out and away from his body, the toddler kicking its feet and mumbling to itself.

(Steve would need to check genitals to figure out sex, but he wasn’t all that committed to figuring out anything else except how to return the child to wherever it had come from.)

Bruce looked up from the board and narrowed his eyes curiously. “That’s strange. Where’d you get the child from?”

“It woke me and Tony up,” Steve huffed. “Was in our bed.”

Natasha raised both eyebrows at him. “You woke up and the kid was just… in your bed?”

“Yes!”

“And you didn’t think to ask JARVIS about where the kid came from? Starting to forget things in your old age?”

Steve’s cheeks pinked, even as Thor stepped away from the stove and moved over to Steve’s side. “A beautiful, strong child! What is her name?”

“Her?”

“Aye, her.” Thor took the child from Steve’s arm and gently bounced it – her – in the air.

The child – girl – shrieked with laughter and threw herself forward to grab at Thor’s shoulders. “Hungry! Time to eat!”

“Indeed so, little one,” Thor said amiably, moving into the kitchen with the child. “Would you like one or two pancakes?”

“Two!” the child demanded, reaching forward to grab at one of the stacks.

With deft movements, Thor shifted his hip away so the food was suddenly out of reach. “One moment, little one,” he murmured.

Steve watched it all with some sort of morbid fascination.

“So, why didn’t you ask JARVIS again?”

“JARVIS doesn’t know anything.”

Steve turned to the side to see Tony behind him, leaning sleepily against the doorframe, in sweats and a tank top.

“Said that no one came in our hallway since we had used it last night, and you know our room’s set to privacy mode, so JARVIS doesn’t record what we do inside. Somehow, without using the front door to our rooms, that kid got in. And you know what that means.”

Unfortunately, Steve did. “Magic.”

“Magic,” Tony grumbled under his breath, glowering at the child. “I hate magic.”

“Well, she’s a child and doesn’t need you glaring at her,” Natasha said sharply, moving up from her chair to go over to the kitchen table. “She also doesn’t need you treating her like dog shit on the bottom of your shoe.” Before either Tony or Steve could reply to that, she walked over to the child’s side. “What’s your name, sweetie?”

“Sarah,” the girl answered promptly.

Steve fainted.

***

“It looks like my mother blessed you two with a child! Of your blood, no less. She rarely stirs herself at all anymore, not for her strongest magic. It is a great honor!”

Steve smiled as Sarah twisted in his lap, reaching up to tug on his shirt. “Thank you, Thor,” he said.

Tony shifted restlessly in the doorway – he didn’t look at all as happy as Steve was. Then again, Steve loved children, and while he hadn’t expected to become a father and was uncertain how they, as a team that regularly fought super-villains, could actually take care of a child... he was still excited. “This kid is here to stay?” Tony asked, voice distant.

Thor nodded. “Aye. It is a great and powerful working. My mother has done this before, with infertile couples who pleaded for her intervention. Children such as these normally grow up with no more than aspects of each of their parents, though a few tend towards the magical arts as they mature.” Thor patted Sarah’s head and gestured to the pancakes in the middle of the table.

“Yes, please!” Sarah said, pushing her sticky syrup-laden plate towards the stack.

Natasha reached over and put another small pancake on the plate. “She’s a cute little thing, Steve.”

Bruce smiled at Sarah and began to say something about medical history when Clint walked past Tony into the kitchen and came to a dead stop. “Steve, there’s a tiny human in your lap.”

“Yeah,” Steve said, ducking his head and deftly grabbing a sticky hand before it could land on his shirt. “There is.”

“Oh.” Clint stared at the table a minute before stumbling to a chair and slumping into it. “Well. As long as you know.”

***

“She’s your daughter too, Tony,” Steve said in exasperation.

“I know,” Tony muttered, head bent over his workstation, “I saw the DNA results.”

Steve folded his arms and glared at his boyfriend. “Look, I get it’s a surprise, but this is – this is amazing. _She’s_ amazing. You just need to give her a chance.”

“Cap, I’ve been so careful throughout my life to _not_ accidentally make children, and suddenly now I have one, and you expect me to be happy?” Tony growled, turning away from his work and throwing his arms wide. “I’m not, okay? You don’t think I calculate the chances of us coming back alive from every situation we’re called out to deal with? You don’t think I have enough on my plate with Iron Man and being a part of my company and designing everyone’s gear? A kid never factored into that, and it never will.”

“ _She_. She never will,” Steve snarled. “Which is fine, because at least she has all the rest of Avengers _and_ SHIELD to care for her even when her biological parent throws her away!”

Turning on his heel, Steve stomped back down the hall and to the elevator that would take him to the common room. He’d known, of course, that Tony was uneasy with Sarah’s presence, did his best not to actually be around Sarah when push came to shove, but he hadn’t realized how much Tony didn’t _want_ Sarah. Tony had somehow come up with a room for her – either repurposed one or actually just built a new one on their floor – and filled it with toys, clothes, books, and furniture. He’d told Steve to paint the walls, tell him if Sarah wanted something different than that, and then told JARVIS to add healthy children’s food to their weekly shopping order. Steve had taken that as a sign that Tony had accepted Sarah, accept Sarah’s presence, was willing to integrate the child into their lives. All the other Avengers had – even Bruce, who was terrified Hulk would hurt her – and all of them seemed charmed by her. _Fury_ seemed charmed by her. Three weeks into being around the Avengers and _all_ of SHIELD doted on her.

With time to cool down, he could begin to understand why – Tony never had liked being around kids. Teenagers, he handled like a dream – at any event where Avengers were supposed to be doing PR by interacting with families, Steve had always been more comfortable with the young ones, remembering back to Bucky’s sisters and the younger kids on his street. Tony had never willingly interacted with the younger set, not unless a parent shoved one at him, and then he generally just smiled and awkwardly patted the kid’s head and sent them along their way.

He stepped out of the elevator and sighed as Sarah and Natasha’s heads looked up from where they were sprawled on the floor, coloring. “Hey, Sarah, what’re you coloring today?”

***

“Your little girl there is a menace,” Clint grumbled. “She ate _all_ the Cocoa Puffs and didn’t tell anyone. JARVIS didn’t order it. We are out, Rogers, of my _only breakfast food_.”

“There’s oatmeal. You’ll live,” Steve said confidently.

Clint gave him a horrified look, but before Clint could say anything, Natasha came in and paused. “Where’s Sarah?” she asked.

“You were giving her a bath, I thought?” Steve said slowly.

Natasha nodded, folding her arms. “We were all done, all dry, I put her pajamas on, told her she could go have a glass of warm milk with you in the kitchen but then it was bedtime. She skipped out the door and I finished cleaning up the rest of it.”

“Of what?” Clint asked.

Natasha arched an eyebrow at him. “Baths are messy.”

“Baths… baths are not messy, they—”

Natasha cut Clint off. “Baths are messy.”

“So where could she have gone?” Bruce jumped in before the two of them could move towards a more serious fight.

“JARVIS, is Sarah on any of your cameras?”

“Indeed, Agent Romanoff.”

There was a few moments of silence before she sighed and rolled her eyes. “Is she in a public or private room?”

“Miss Sarah is in a private room, Agent Romanoff.”

“Well, what does that mean?” Clint asked, already moving towards the hallway.

With a huff, Natasha snipped back, “It means that in public spaces JARVIS is allowed to tell us whatever’s happening in that room, but some rooms – notably, our bedrooms, or bathrooms, or the gym or the pool or the laboratory or the workshop – are labeled private and JARVIS will not tell us who is in those rooms at any given time.”

“Thank you, Agent Romanoff. Unless, of course, you chose to use Sir’s override.”

Natasha paused. “And how would I use something like that?”

“Judiciously, once you have run out of patience looking for Miss Sarah,” JARVIS replied promptly.

Steve, Clint, and Bruce turned to look at her, and she shrugged. “What? If Tony really didn’t want me to have them, he’d have changed them.”

With a sigh, Steve motioned towards the halls. “I’ll take our floor and Thor’s; Natasha, take the gym along with yours – Clint, the pool and Bruce, the lab?”

“Not the workshop?” Bruce asked, furrowing his brow.

“I think it’s highly unlikely she got inside there,” Steve muttered.

Clint rolled his eyes and gently shoved Steve. “Go check there first, then, get it over with. She’s sneaky, and you jinxed yourself by saying she isn’t there.”

***

“Told you so,” Clint muttered under his breath.

Steve didn’t say a word, just watched as Sarah – standing on the workbench next to Tony – leaned in to watch Tony work, pressed against his back, with one of the bots – Dum-E, Steve was certain – hovering nearby to hand tools as they were requested. Natasha smirked at Steve’s dumbfounded expression and pointed at a small mug full of white liquid. “She told me she wanted to have milk with her Dad, and I guess she did.”

“I guess she did,” Steve replied faintly.

“Well, it is past ten and she’s a three year old girl who needs to sleep at a normal time,” Bruce said, keying in his code to enter the workshop.

Tony and Sarah didn’t look up when the door opened, probably because Tony was in fact playing music at the time. Still, it wasn’t as loud as it could have been, and when the four of them stepped inside, they saw Thor was sitting on the small couch in the back of the workshop, watching a movie on the television there. When Thor saw them, he stood up and came over.

“Have you need of something? Rarely do all of us stand within Tony’s private sanctum all at the same time,” Thor remarked.

Bruce had gone over to the table, startling both Tony and Sarah, and the three of them were conversing. Natasha drifted over to the cup, picking it up, and Clint pointed at Steve. “He didn’t believe we’d find Sarah here.”

“Ah, yes, the little one asked me to take her here, and help her gain a cup of milk for drinking,” Thor mused. “She was much enchanted by the workshop.”

“I didn’t know Tony would – I didn’t see how Sarah could have gotten in the workshop, so I didn’t think we should look here,” Steve said softly.

Thor patted Steve on the back. “Mayhaps you need to speak with your companion. We will take your child up to bed.”

Only, Sarah wouldn’t let go of Tony’s neck. After fruitless maneuvering, Bruce sighed and stepped back. “You’re going to have to take her to bed.”

Tony looked around at the five Avengers standing around him and snorted. “You hear that, brat? You’re so tough five Avengers can’t take you on. But I think I can.”

“No, daddy!” Sarah giggled, holding tighter and wrapping her legs around his chest.

Tony gritted his teeth, and Steve stepped forward to put a gentle hand on Sarah’s back. “Sarah, Daddy’s heart is hurting, you’re squeezing him so much! Maybe loosen up a little?”

“Daddy carries me!” Sarah demanded, though either she loosened her legs or Tony got better at hiding his pain.

The Avengers looked expectantly at Tony, and with a sigh he stood up, sliding Sarah onto his hip with practiced movements, and stood up. “Alright, sweetie, let’s go.”

Steve watched, dumbfounded, as Tony exited the workshop, throwing quick commands to JARVIS and his bots to shut down his working projects. Stepping into the elevator, Tony seemed to be engaged in animated conversation with Sarah.

“He didn’t – he doesn’t want to be around her. Around kids,” Steve said slowly. “He doesn’t like kids.”

Bruce sighed and shook his head, following Clint out of the workshop. Natasha cocked her eyebrow. “Sure looks like he’s okay with this one. Maybe there’s more to Tony’s avoidance of children than you know?”

“I mean, I guessed, but—” Steve shook his head.

Thor clasped Steve’s shoulder. “Tony is a man of many faces and multiple reasons for his many oddities.”

Steve huffed out a laugh and followed Thor out of the workshop and took the elevator up to the floor he shared with Tony – their floor. Their home. Tony had built all this, given them so much, and Steve still marveled at how Tony hated to be called out for his generosity. Many faces and multiple reasons indeed.

Wandering down the hall from their room, he stopped outside Sarah’s closed door and leaned against it. Inside, he could hear Tony reading a story – the Tale of Tom Kitten – complete with voices and enthusiastic, engaging commentary. He stayed against the door, listening to Tony tuck Sarah in, patiently search under the bed and in the closet before setting up the ‘magical force field’ night light that would keep Sarah safe from bad dreams. When Tony came out, whispering goodnight and closing the door, Steve smiled gently. “You’re amazing with her, Tony.”

Tony’s shoulders hunched. “She’s a good kid.”

“She seemed very involved with your project,” Steve ventured, looping an arm around Tony’s waist and walking him back to their shared room.

At that, Tony’s mouth curled into a genuine smile. “She’s a natural with math, even if she can’t grasp the finer points of mechanical engineering.”

“Well, it’s no surprise she’s smart,” Steve pointed out.

Tony didn’t respond to that.

They got ready for bed, the two of them, and Tony was in an odd enough mood that Steve didn’t push any further, say anything else, just let Tony work out silently in his head whatever was the issue. When Tony came out of the bathroom, Steve was already under the covers, back propped up against the headboard.

Still silent, Tony crawled into bed and laid his head in Steve’s lap. After a few moments, Steve gently stroking Tony’s head and neck, Tony whispered, “I don’t know how to be a parent.”

Steve linked fingers with Tony. “You were doing pretty well, there. I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

“Steve – Starks are _horrible_ at being parents. You don’t know half of what my mother or father did, or acted, and Grandfather and Grandmamma were worse. I’m not cut out for this. And she could – she’s magic, Steve, she could disappear at any moment. This isn’t – I can’t let her – I’m not ready for a kid. I can’t handle people slower than I am, and I’m sarcastic, and I forget about my own basic needs let alone someone else’s, I treat people horribly when I’m in a bad mood, I drink too much—”

“You’re not a single parent, Tony, so we’ll all be here to help with that list you’re spewing, even if I don’t believe in half of it,” Steve interrupted Tony firmly. “Thor told us that his mother gave us her – whether she disappears tomorrow evening or when she finds someone to marry, she’s going to leave us. The point is to make the most of the time we have with her. And Tony,” Steve continued, pulling Tony up and brushing their foreheads together, “you are a Stark- _Rogers_ , and they’re the best parents in the world.”

Tony stared at Steve a long moment, and then his mouth pulled into a reluctant smile. “Is that so?” he said.

“It is. Just wait; by the end of this week, you’ll be in the thick of things, just like the rest of us are.”

* _Two weeks later*_

Steve walked out of the elevator into the common quarters and was immediately drenched in water.

“Oopsie, Daddy, that was Papa! Papa, you’re wet!”

“I see that, Sarah,” Steve murmured, looking at a guilty-looking Tony and a smiling toddler, both of which were holding water guns. “May I ask what—”

Clint suddenly popped out of a doorway and got Tony straight in the eye, Sarah in the chest, and then Steve in the chest before Clint lowered his gun and blinked. “Oh. I thought you were Thor.”

“Thor?” Steve asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Teams,” Tony said, voice somehow at the same time uncertain but hopeful. “Thor, Sarah, and I are on one team. Natasha, Clint, and Bruce are on the other.”

“I see,” Steve said, looking around. “Well, where’s my gun?”

Sarah looked around. “I don’t know, Papa!”

“Well, I’ll need a gun if I’m going to help you win your game, won’t I?”

“I’ll go find you one!” Sarah vowed, running off and nearly tripping over her own feet.

Steve turned to look at Tony and sighed. “If I knew encouraging you to be more involved would mean getting lectured by Fury and Pepper over your inability to come in to meetings or meet deadlines—”

Steve was squirted in the face. Water dripped from his eyelashes and fell onto his cheeks as he looked over at Clint – or rather, Natasha, who had come up smoothly behind Clint and gotten him in the face.

“We’re playing,” she said serenely. “Or rather, we’re winning. _You’re_ losing.”

And, well. Steve couldn’t exactly let a challenge like that go.


End file.
